


Trine

by saxophonic



Category: B.A.P
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Collars, Deepthroating, Double Penetration, Earns the 'Not As Much Smut As There Could Have Been' award, M/M, Minor Kim Himchan/Yoo Youngjae, Multi, Oral Sex, Polyamorous Character, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-11
Updated: 2016-01-11
Packaged: 2018-05-13 04:19:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5694487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saxophonic/pseuds/saxophonic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What happens when imperial toy Junhong finds himself caught between his master and the prince?</p><p>Warnings: General BDSM themes as part of a short D/s kinkfic AU with master/slave relationships. If this will upset you in any way, please do not read!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trine

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [the_brownie_bunch_4](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/the_brownie_bunch_4) collection. 



> **Prompt:**
> 
>  
> 
> Trigger Warning: n/a  
> Characters and / or Pairings: yongguk/junhong/himchan  
> Description: fucktoy au // Spoiled pet Junhong was a gift from Prince Himchan to his close friend Yongguk. Junhong is also the only one who's ever noticed the Prince's regard for his soft-spoken adviser, and the only one to know the Prince's tender affections are returned. He cannot help but love them both dearly (although he is blindest to their attachments to him). When the Prince tells him to name any gift of his choosing on his birthday, Junhong has the cheek to ask for something he's sure will tip the scales - a night with them both. 
> 
> (happy endings are a must pretty pretty please <3)

“The prince paid too much for you,” the elder pet attendant tells him as she finishes dusting his collarbones with a shimmering powder in the pre-introduction parlor.

The younger, sliding gold rings over his wrists and up his arms, says, “Well, I would say His Highness certainly got his money’s worth.” The elder one makes a disapproving noise, and Junhong stifles a laugh. “If it were my place to say anything, of course. He’s taller than everyone at court.”

“Not everyone,” says the elder. “Those western dignitaries are a tall bunch.” She raises her tool to to powder his cheekbones and frowns. “Bend your knees, pet.” 

He obeys. “I have a name.”

The elder one resumes her work. “I’m sure you do. We’ll be hearing it soon enough.” Once she’s finished, she lowers the brush. “You hardly need any more paint.” She gestures across the room, the younger one following her finger to bring a drawer of bejeweled adornments over as they finish dressing him for his introduction.

When they’re satisfied with his appearance, he’s escorted to away. On his way out, he catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror. Not much, just enough of the colored and perfumed silk gauze, of the subtly applied paint on his face, of the gold jewelry his limbs but his neck left bare. Nobody would mistake him for anything but what he is.

An imperial toy.

They leave him alone in the chamber, and despite the elder attendant’s advisory he wait amongst the pillows, he wanders the room. He’s never seen a chamber this ornate. Everything his eyes can see bears some decoration, from fine embroidery to surfaces inlaid with precious metals or stones. The walls are art, the floors are art, the furniture is art. Even the plants bear a curious carving on their leaves, and despite the man-made design, they remain as fresh and green as he’s ever seen.

He’s examining the explicit images painted on the jar of oil (this one has a generous lip for easy application) when someone enters, their voice trailing off. He looks up.

Two someones, staring at him.

“You must be Junhong,” one says, the slightly shorter one with the watchful eyes and the straight nose and a heart-shaped mouth. A few pieces of dark hair frame his face. The rest of his long hair remains pulled back and held in place by a glimmering circlet of gold inlaid with white and faint pink stones. He looks soft from where Junhong stands, yet the man exudes a sense of bravado. His posture feels lifted, like he’s used to people staring. Junhong has never seen the face of his prince before this moment.

Junhong inclines his head, lowering his eyes with a practiced flutter. Legs spread apart, he sinks to his knees in practiced calm. “Yes, Your Highness.” He sits back over his feet and folds his hands over his lap, training taking over as he submits to power. The floor is hard beneath the area rug. He should have listened to the elder attendant and claimed the pillows instead.

“Good.” A rustle of fabric. “Well? What do you think?”

“Himchan,” this voice is far deeper than the prince’s, smooth and quiet. Junhong wonders who he is, to address the prince so informally. It’s almost intimate. “I don’t know.”

“Of course you do. You simply don’t wish to say it.”

A sigh. “You insist?”

“I insist,” the prince says. “Tell me what you think of your gift.”

“Pretty.”

Junhong wrinkles his nose, vanity wounded but not deflated. He’s had teachers and seekers call him far lovelier things than just pretty.

“Bbang.”

A name? No, it’s too intimate. A nickname, perhaps. Who is this man, who earns a nickname from the prince? Junhong has only one guess.

The man gives a soft groan, muffled as though the prince’s lifelong friend and soon-to-be advisor put a hand to his face. “You know my type too well. He’s breathtaking.”

Junhong puffs with pride, smoothing out his features. Well, except for the pesky corner of his mouth refusing to turn down from a half-smile.

“That’s more like it, Yongguk. Now.” A jostle. “Enjoy.” 

Yongguk splutters. 

“Or should I show you how it’s done? If memory serves, it has been a while for you, and I certainly wouldn’t mind.”

“I don’t need you to show me,” Yongguk says.

“Good,” says Himchan. “Then I’ll leave you to it.”

Footfalls grow distant, the whisper of fabric trailing after them. Soon, Junhong finds himself alone with Yongguk. Friend of the prince. Junhong’s new master.

Yongguk clears his throat. “I didn’t catch your name.”

“Junhong,” he raises his eyes, taking in Yongguk’s slender form before meeting his eyes, “Master.”

It’s a risk that pays off. Yongguk’s cheeks color, his bottom lip catching between his teeth for a moment. He’s an attractive man, Junhong decides, with a kind face and a quiet confidence about him. “Come here.”

Junhong obeys, getting to his feet with careful exposures of his inner thighs. Yongguk might be tall, but Junhong can still see the top of his head as he approaches. “How might I make myself useful to you?” Junhong asks, the practiced line a low murmur in the otherwise quiet of the room. Training dictates he keep his eyes low, but Yongguk hasn’t reproached him for the breach in conduct. Perhaps he has gotten lucky and found himself in the care of a kind master.

The thought makes Junhong smile.

“I admit, I am not used to this sort of…arrangement,” Yongguk says, before straightening his posture and clasping his hands behind his back. “You are a tall one, aren’t you?”

“That’s what everyone says.” Junhong inclines his head. “Nobody stops to think I might be the perfect height and everyone else is short.”

Yongguk laughs, low and rumbling, and when Junhong peeks at his face, it looks as genuine as it sounds. His mouth opens in a broad smile, clean teeth and gums on full display, unlike anything he’d seen at the training house. He’s far more handsome now than when he played the quiet, brooding advisor moments before. “Perhaps,” Yongguk says once he’s stopped laughing. “I suppose we should get down to business.”

“Shall I spread for you, Master? Or would you prefer to be the one spread?” Junhong imagines his training master livid to such looseness of tongue. But Yongguk does not seem to mind.

“I don’t have much time, you see.”

“Ah, well then,” Junhong sinks to his knees without further ado. Yongguk’s eyes follow him, mouth slackened with surprise. “I know just what to make of you.” His fingers find the ties at Yongguk’s waist, undoing his robes as he talks. “A quick introduction, then, Master? Something for you to think about this afternoon.”

“You don’t need to call me that.”

“Master?”

“Yes,” Yongguk says. He inhales once Junhong exposes his dick, stimulating it to hardness with his hand. “Though I suppose my name alone is too informal.”

“For now,” Junhong says, and before Yongguk can stop him, he sucks on the head of Yongguk’s cock with his wet mouth. Yongguk’s soft noises of pleasure grow harsh the more Junhong takes into his mouth. His hands find Junhong’s hair, styled in gentle curls for the introduction. Junhong swallows him completely again and again until he comes neatly down Junhong’s trained throat.

After Junhong makes him decent again, Yongguk pets Junhong’s hair, smoothing it out before running his fingers through it. Junhong shivers under the gentle massage. It’s a moment as sweet as it is short-lived.

A knock interrupts them. “Your Grace?”

“Yes?”

“The others are gathering in the Eastern Chamber, and the meeting is due to start shortly.”

Yongguk mutters under his breath, a curse word Junhong feels privileged to hear. “I’ll be there.”

“Yes, Your Grace.” Junhong listens as the footsteps trail farther away.

Stilling his hands in Junhong’s hair, Yongguk reaches his hand down to help Junhong to his feet. When he’s standing, Yongguk frames his square face in his hands and presses a kiss against Junhong’s lips.

Junhong resists the call to respond, staying still as Yongguk pulls away. “I’ll send my house attendants to fetch you at once.” Yongguk turns to leave, pausing at the door. “If I can sneak away, I would enjoy dinner together.”

“Yes, Master.” Junhong finds himself again, remembering his training a moment too late, but Yongguk has vanished through the doorway before Junhong can make proper obeisance.

Alone, Junhong waits among the pillows for Yongguk’s attendants to fetch him, pleased to have found himself in the service of this curious man. He doesn’t have to wait long before he’s discovered, escorted, and welcomed into his new bedchamber in Yongguk’s quarters.

The first week or so, Junhong finds himself too timid to wander outside of Yongguk’s quarters in the palace. There isn’t much reason to stray, either. Yongguk provides him with hot meals hand-delivered to his bedroom by servants Junhong charms within days, hot baths drawn at Junhong’s request, and access to a dance practice room, a small library, and Yongguk’s personal garden. 

Yongguk visits with him often in the garden, not always for sex, though Junhong does now have a fondness for the secluded bench near the small fish pond. Usually they take lunch together in the summer air, Yongguk speaking of lofty ideals and Junhong piping in more often than not. Yongguk never seems to mind, rewarding him with a smile, and just once, by running a hand through Junhong’s hair and drawing him close for a kiss. That same night together had been extra sweet.

Near the end of the first month, when Junhong is practicing his dance and thinking fondly of Yongguk, he meets with the prince again by chance.

“I thought Yongguk would be hiding in here,” the prince says from his spot at the door. Junhong hadn’t noticed him enter, and he turns too quick to greet Prince Himchan properly, losing his balance. The prince laughs. “I’m sorry, I seem to have startled you.”

“That’s okay, your Highness,” Junhong says, rearranging himself into the proper pose.

Himchan waves him off, though his tone comes across more fond than annoyed. “None of that.” 

Junhong relaxes, even as Himchan steps out of the doorway and into the room. “If you’re looking for Yongguk, I haven’t seen much of him today.”

Use of Yongguk’s first name only provokes quirk of Himchan’s mouth. “It’s ‘Yongguk’ now?” Himchan stops a few feet away, an appropriate distance between pet and a man not his master. He’s more handsome than Junhong remembered, and the smirk on his face sets Junhong’s face aflame. “Cheeky. He’s Yongguk to me, too. If you start calling him ‘Bbang,’ I might get jealous.”

“He is…,” Junhong weighs his words, taking the opportunity to look away from the heir to the throne. “He is a kind man. I am lucky your Highness thought to give me to him.”

The once-over Himchan gives him spans a few, long seconds. “My loss is my friend’s gain.”

“Your Highness is generous in his words.” Junhong looks back towards him.

Himchan remains silent as he studies Junhong. “No, no. I think I have understated my appreciation. Let me speak to Yongguk, but I would like to commission for you a hairpiece for you to wear when you dance at midsummer.”

“When I dance?” Junhong asks, blinking rapidly in surprise.

“Yes. As all the pets show off their talents, so should you, I think,” Himchan says. “I suppose now I have three reasons I need to speak to him. An auspicious number.” Himchan offers his arm. “Would you accompany me to find him?”

Accompany the prince? Junhong almost forgets to lower his eyes and incline his head. “Your Highness honors me again.”

“Please don’t bow, I’d rather get to finding him sooner than later.”

Junhong stifles a chuckle with moderate success. “Yes, Your Highness.”

“And laugh more often,” Himchan says once Junhong takes his elbow. He leads them out the door. “It suits you.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

“Are you this stiff with Yongguk?” They walk through the hallways, servants stepping out of Himchan’s way to allow him free passage.

“Only when he wants me to be, Highness,” Junhong mutters before he can stop himself. He doesn’t conceal his shock when the prince throws his head back to laugh instead of reprimand.

“I truly am jealous,” Himchan says, still chuckling. They turn the corner, Himchan surging on to the next topic before Junhong can batter away the compliment. Few people spare them another glance. Junhong wonders if it’s because they’re used to Himchan roaming Yongguk’s quarters without a proper entourage. A pet—someone else’s pet—could hardly be considered adequate guard. No matter how tall that pet might be.

They continue their conversation as they wander the hallways, seeking Yongguk and eventually finding him in a small reading room beyond Yongguk’s residences. He notices Himchan first, then Junhong, then the way Junhong’s fingers wrap around the crook of Himchan’s elbow. “We’ve come to rescue you from yourself,” Himchan announces, and Yongguk’s attention immediately finds Himchan’s face again.

“I’m perfectly capable of rescuing myself, Himchan,” Yongguk says, readjusting the texts on the reading desk before him.

“Nonsense,” Himchan says. He raises his arm, and Junhong releases it. “We’ve also come to ask for favors.”

Yongguk groans softly.

“Bbang, don’t be like that,” Himchan says, a playful whine he emphasizes with a light touch to Yongguk’s shoulder. Yongguk’s stony facade breaks into laughter.

 _Interesting_ , Junhong thinks, becoming aware he’s witnessing something that goes beyond the friendliness between prince and advisor. Perhaps it’s different from the affection between two friends, but Junhong hasn’t had enough exposure to either of them to know for certain.

“What is it?” Yongguk asks.

Himchan makes a space for himself at the reading bench. “Three things. First, will you let Junhong show his talents at the midsummer festival?”

Yongguk looks to Junhong. “Would you like that?”

“Yes, I would.”

“Then yes, you can look forward to Junhong’s performance.”

Himchan grins. “Excellent.” He holds up two fingers. “Next, may I commission for him a hairpiece to wear, if you have not yet provided him with one?”

Yongguk frowns. “I have not, Himchan. It might be a good time to fit him for his collar, a duty I’ve neglected. If it would please you—”

“Excellent!” Himchan claps his hands together and looks at Junhong. “I will send for your fitting in the coming weeks. I look forward to your appearance, Junhong.”

“I hope to please, your Highness.” Junhong inclines his head, but does not bow, and both men grin at him. Do all the palace pets get away with breaking such protocol?

“Now, the next matter is a matter of business. Junhong, if you would leave us…?”

Junhong nods again, murmuring his assent as he leaves the room. His excitement for the coming weeks encourages them to blur together. Practice hours honing his dance bleed into nights spent in his master’s arms. They talk often of many subjects, and Junhong notices whenever Himchan comes up, Yongguk’s face melts into a soft smile. And from the way he says his prince’s name, well, Junhong knows infatuation when he hears it.

Himchan begins to visit him, once a week at most, checking in on his practice times and occasionally doting on Junhong with little sweets. Sometimes Himchan mentions other toys during his short visits, but Junhong doesn’t meet them in person until a few days before the festival.

He’s midway through the final fitting of the hairpiece of precious stones to be woven into Junhong’s hair for the festival when he meets one. 

“So you’re the new one that Yongguk keeps locked away in his quarters.” A breathtakingly beautiful pet, the young man’s face is perfect. The apples at the end of high cheekbones bunch attractively as his full lips curve into a smile. “I can see why.” Junhong notices around his slender neck a thin collar of black leather with a jewel at its midway point. One one side of the jewel, a silver engraving reads ‘Youngjae’ while on the other, it simply has the prince’s seal. It’s the sort of collar that needs no further embellishments to broadcast its value and superior craftsmanship, like Youngjae himself. Even so, he wears a few pieces of jewelry and enough liner to bring out his intelligent eyes.

The attendant doing the fitting fixes Junhong’s head, which had turned aside at Youngjae’s comment. “Oh, yes,” Junhong says. “I am Yongguk’s toy, yes.”

“I was wondering why he hasn’t brought you out to play,” Youngjae says, making himself comfortable on a bench at the corner of Junhong’s vision. “I would have liked to meet you sooner. Prince Himchan says you’re to dance for us all.”

“Oh,” Junhong says lamely. “Yes.”

Youngjae laughs. “Is that all you say? Adorable.”

Junhong turns his head sharply. “I’m not adorable!”

“Please remain still,” says the attendant, and he mumbles an apology while facing front.

Youngjae laughs again. “Yes, yes, you’re quite adorable and shy of two meters tall. No wonder Prince Himchan wants Yongguk to hurry up and introduce you to court.” Youngjae adjusts on the bench, lying on his back. He kicks his feet in the air, anklets jingling. “I just couldn’t wait, so when Prince Himchan said you’d be here, I had to meet you for myself. I had to know what kind of pet could capture another portion of his attention.” Motion stills. “Now I know.” 

Rolling on his stomach, Youngjae resumes kicking his legs in the air behind him as he talks. Junhong itches to turn his head and speak with him properly, but at a fraction of a turn, the attendant jolts his head back to position as she finishes measuring. “Midsummer festival this year will be the biggest yet. I look forward to it.” Youngjae rolls off the bench and to his feet in a graceful whirl. “And once you’re properly introduced, it’ll be nice to have someone new to talk to around here.” With that, Youngjae strolls out the door. Junhong turns to watch him go, excited at the prospect of a curious new friend, only for the attendant to force his head forward once again.

“For the last time, would you stop fidgeting!”

As promised, the festival is impressive, even by Junhong’s imagination. There are far more people than Junhong has ever seen, dressed with colors of every hue and most of the court bearing ornate masks. Yongguk had arranged for him to wear a mask and robes in Bang House colors, and presents Junhong with a temporary collar. It’s a simple strap with the House insignia stamped in the metal. After a quick, intimate ceremony between the two of them, the strap coming to rest comfortably around Junhong’s throat.

“You’ll have a proper one soon,” Yongguk had murmured before they were off to the festivities. Junhong fingers the collar often as they wind through the elaborate party, Yongguk doing his diligence as a high-ranking official to mingle with others. Food and drink flow through the inner courts, one room flowing into another as wine to an empty goblet, with small bands of musicians playing for dancers in each room. The crowds spill out into the warm summer gardens, where sword-swallowers and fire-breathers and other performers vie for other merrymakers’ attention.

In the gardens, they find Himchan and Youngjae already making a beeline for them. “There you are!” Himchan says, eyes focused on Yongguk. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you!” Junhong fails to suppress a smile. How could they both be so blind to their obvious affections for each other?

Youngjae winks at him from his master’s side. They make a good pair, though Junhong feels guilty for accepting so many of Himchan’s compliments and gifts when his own pet is so stunning.

“We were…delayed,” Yongguk says.

“Well you’re here now,” Himchan says.

“Does this mean Junhong and I and the others can perform soon?” Youngjae asks, tugging on Himchan’s sleeve. But then Himchan turns to Youngjae, expression tender as he smoothes a hand through Youngjae’s hair, and Junhong wonders how many different people one man can love.

“Yes. Let’s get started, shall we?” Himchan turns, and just like that, the crowd parts around them as they head for an inner courtyard. It seems like palace servants already had word of the prince’s initiative, with instruments being brought in and a small stage cleared of people. Eventually the palace pets assemble and one by one show off their talents. Youngjae precedes Junhong’s performance with a jaw-dropping vocal display, singing an old folk song with masterful technique.

Youngjae’s a tough act to follow, and the sizeable crowd makes Junhong nervous. He catches Yongguk’s eyes wide with anticipation, an unspoken encouragement that helps Junhong start. The original choreography makes use of his long arms and the understated strength in his limber body, flipping and spinning across the stage to a percussive accompaniment. When he strikes his final pose, the crowd remains silent for a beat before breaking out into applause comparable to Youngjae’s performance.

Yongguk finds him after the performance. “You were incredible.” They embrace.

“Thank you, Yongguk.”

“Did you compose that yourself?”

“Yes. I’m glad my time practicing was well spent.” 

They break apart reluctantly, Himchan and Youngjae approaching them. “Youngjae, would you mind taking Junhong to where the other toys play? I need Yongguk to assist me with a new delegate.”

Youngjae leads him through the party, away to a roped-off corner where other men and women bearing collars lounge amongst pillows and padded benches. Youngjae delights in introducing Junhong to the other pets. Some houses are familiar, others are not. Most of them behave properly, and Junhong realizes how accustomed to informality he’s become. Youngjae acts much in the same way, Junhong thinks, but he supposes that comes from being the prince’s pet. No matter. He hasn’t been punished before, and he figures he should be fine as long as he doesn’t do something terrible. Like fall in love.

Long before the close of the evening, Yongguk comes to find him. “Let’s go home,” he says, “I’m tired of all these people.” Junhong bids his new acquaintances and Youngjae goodbye, content to wander away from the crowds and into time alone with Yongguk.

Their easy conversation trails off once they return to Yongguk’s residences in the palace. Sitting atop a cushioned pedestal rests a new collar, the Bang House insignia carved into an inlaid strip of silver.

Next to it is Junhong’s name.

“Is this soon enough for you?” Yongguk asks, and Junhong wills his tears not to overflow. It fits better than Junhong could have imagined.

“Thank you, Yongguk,” Junhong says, fingers tracing over his name and the insignia. Yongguk’s fingers join his, one finger curling into the small D-ring that hangs on the front of the collar. “Are you ready to retire for the evening?”

Yongguk grins, tugging Junhong along and Junhong’s hands reach forward to steady himself against Yongguk. “Not yet tired, but why don’t we change that?” And Junhong can’t help but smile back as they fall into bed together.

The remainder of summer passes much in the same fashion as time before the midsummer festival. Nights and stolen moments during the day with Yongguk pepper in a certain sweetness to which Junhong quickly grows accustomed. Now, Junhong wears his collar with pride when he and Youngjae spend time exploring the palace grounds together. Himchan continues to surprise him with visits, sometimes joining Youngjae and Junhong on their walks. 

One walk on a late summer day with the beginnings of fall crispness on the wind, Youngjae and Junhong watch as a group of advisors, Yongguk included, bring Himchan back from an extended break in a council meeting. The two exchange looks and touches that catch Junhong’s eye as they turn the corner.

“Have you ever wondered how many people one person can love?” Junhong asks aloud.

“If you mean the prince, he loves many men in many ways.” Youngjae shrugs when Junhong raises an eyebrow at him. “There’s a puzzle there I haven’t been able to solve.” His eyes scan Junhong’s form again, a sly smile curling up the corners of his mouth. “You might find a better way.”

“Perhaps,” Junhong says, then changes the subject, though he privately resolves to find a way to help his master and his prince, in whatever way he can.

Later, when Junhong and Yongguk spend their last waking moments together, sweaty and spent, Junhong pushes his luck. “I’ve noticed your eyes stray.”

“What? Toward who?”

“Our dear prince. I see why you care for him.” Yongguk’s grip on Junhong surges almost painfully tight before he pushes Junhong to arm’s length. “Yongguk, Master, I do not fault you nor have I spoken word of this to anyone.”

Yongguk relaxes. “It’s inappropriate. He is my prince, I am his advisor. His friend. This is the way of things, Junhong.”

“But what if we could change the world, just this once?”

Chuckling, Yongguk draws Junhong back into his embrace. “So you _have_ been listening to my sermons about my work.”

“Every word, Master.” 

Weeks pass after that conversation before Junhong can galvanize his newfound resolve into action. Autumn moves in to take summer’s place, and one afternoon Himchan and Junhong lounge amongst pillows in a palace sunroom enjoying the last of the season’s cool rays of sunlight. Alone, they speak frankly, and Junhong mentions his upcoming birthday.

“You might not be mine, but I’ll still see to it that you are well-cared for.” Himchan pauses to play with a loose thread on an embroidered pillow. The sun catches his circlet in just the right way to make it glow. “With Bbang’s permission, of course.”

There. That nickname. Junhong moves before he realizes it, shifting his limbs apart slightly so the jewelry he bears clinks delicately over the whispers of his clothing. “Grant me an indulgence, your Highness.”

“You have never asked so politely. You must truly want this.” Himchan laughs. “I’ll hear it.”

“Allow me to see to both your needs one night.”

A beat of silence. “I see.” Junhong watches Himchan’s mouth press into a tight line, forehead creasing. He speaks again. “Very well. I shall speak to Bbang, ah, to Yongguk, and he and I shall discuss his preference.” Junhong represses a smile at the nickname, confident he’s won. “I will not force him, or you, into any activity against your own wishes.”

Junhong nods. “Yes, my prince.”

The night before his birthday, Junhong comes to the little room set aside for him in Yongguk’s residences and finds Yongguk and Himchan waiting for him.

He feels triumphant. “What a pleasant surprise. What have I done to earn such an honor, I wonder?”

Himchan snickers, but Yongguk appears a bit more worried. “Junhong, Himchan came to me with an odd request. He assured me I was mistaken, but I want to hear it from you.” Junhong nods. “When you say you wish to have us both, does that…am I not enough? Or would you prefer another master? I will not force you to stay and be unhappy.”

Triumph turns to horror. “No!” Junhong says, shocked. “I like you, like being in your service. I don’t want to leave.” He frowns. “I thought you would be happy, that you both would. I’ve noticed things I don’t think I should have, and I thought I might be able to help.” Junhong bows his head. “I see now you think this a criticism when I wanted to make you happy. To make both of you happy.”

“See, Bbang? You worry too much,” Himchan says, breaking the ice. Junhong looks up, hopeful.

“I just want to do the right thing,” Yongguk says. He’s still quiet and hunched over in thought, but Himchan leans over to tilt his face into a kiss.

Junhong stands, just as shocked as Yongguk, both unmoving until Himchan breaks it off. “Bbang,” Himchan says softly. “Tell me I haven’t—” Himchan gestures to Junhong. “That _we_ haven’t misunderstood everything.”

A long, tense moment passes. “Okay,” Yongguk says, at last. He looks between them, hope in his eyes. Junhong can’t conceal his excitement, and Himchan’s smiling so broadly his cheek dimples beneath one eye. “Okay. Let’s give it a try.”

The three of them tumble the night away together, Junhong’s supple limbs and Yongguk’s skillfull fingers and Himchan’s quick tongue, a jumble of pleasure that spans both Junhong’s and Yongguk’s bedroom. It passes in moments. Yongguk’s fingers hooked in Junhong’s collar while Himchan indulges in Junhong’s mouth. Junhong’s mouth alternating between Himchan’s and Yongguk’s entrances while they kiss. Junhong pulled between them. Oil-slicked fingers preparing him. Junhong stretched wide to accommodate them both as he rides. Junhong careful to take care of them both before asking permission. Junhong beet red as the two of them work together to suck his cock.

At the end of the night, before dawn cracks her bright eye on Junhong’s birthday, sleep finds the three of them warm, sated, and happy.


End file.
